Hand of Destiny
by fadedLily
Summary: Sequel to Cruel Fates. Jade leaves for her journey to where she believes the Mutare isle to be, whether on a quest of atonement or pride is not yet known. Silvara is left to mend the rifts she made between her family and friends. Will either succeed?
1. Prologue

Hand of Destiny Prologue  
  
Fandom: Black Jewels Trilogy Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst, Fantasy Pairing(s): DxS, NJ Rating: R  
  
Author: Lily Archive: -anrui-  
  
So here begins my next adventure into my more-than-slightly modified version of the Black Jewels' Realms. Jade is off on her own to pursue what she has deemed her own destiny: whether it is merely atonement or pride is yet to be seen. Meanwhile, Silvara still struggles to mend the rifts she has formed between her family and friends. Will either of them succeed?  
  
Early morning found the Hall slumbering peacefully, with the exception of a few souls. It was merely a week or so after Jade had announced she intended to find and restore the Mutare isle. Silvara was pacing back and forth in her rooms, pale her whipping about behind her, trailing like jagged lightning across the dark sky as she violently turned.  
  
"I can't believe she's insistent on doing this...this fool's errand!" she cried. A figure on the bed shifted idly until Damien was supporting himself on his elbows. He raised one finely shaped eyebrow in question, his honey- glazed eyes containing a spark of amusement within their depths despite the seriousness of the situation. "Silvara, you told me once that Jade was stubborn and would do as she pleased even if you tied her down and sat on her. So why are you so upset?"  
  
With a curt wave of her hand, Silvara replied immediately, "She's not been at her best these days. Oh, she hides it well, but I can tell. Though I can't quite say what the matter is. Her genetics must be different from normal Blood. After all, she is, first and foremost, Mutare. As Jade has made abundantly clear." The witch let out a rude snort of air from her nose.  
  
"Have you tried speaking to Nathaniel?" Damien asked mildly. He turned on his side, supporting himself with one arm while the other idly traced patterns on the coverlet. The move displayed a wealth of golden skin and trim muscle, and Silvara could not help but let her eyes linger, reminded with a faint blush on her cheeks of their earlier playing. Damien noticed, as he always did, and a satisfactory smile curved his lips.  
  
Shaking her head to dispel the intimate, though not displeasing, thoughts, Silvara responded, "And what, pray tell, would Nathaniel do?" Damien merely shrugged. "He is a Warlord Prince in addition to being Mutare. He has chosen whom he will serve." A thoughtful frown crossed Silvara's countenance as she thought on that. "No, he would have already tried it, no doubt. You are right. Once Jade has chosen her course she will not be dissuaded. To allow herself would be construed as a weakness in her eyes."  
  
Shaking his head, Damien rolled so that he was on his back once more. "Then it is hopeless, and you must stop worrying. Jade is an adult woman. She makes her own choices."  
  
"Jade has always made her own choices," Silvara replied in a quiet voice.  
  
"The sun hasn't even rose yet," Nathaniel observed as he peered out of the balcony doors. Behind him, Jade made a noncommittal noise and finished tying her boots. Tapping her heel briefly on the floor to make sure they fit properly, Jade rose from the bed and crossed to Nathaniel, resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing briefly. She withdrew a moment later, saying in a voice that almost sounded apologetic—but it couldn't be, for Nathaniel had never heard Jade sound apologetic—"I know you disagree with this. I offer you the chance to stay behind, Nathaniel. No one will think ill of you."  
  
"Except for me," the redhead responded, his voice terse. Jade just sighed, seeing that for Nathaniel it was a matter of pride. Or at least pride entered into the equation. "Fine. Just remember, you chose your own path, Nathaniel." There was the sound of footsteps, and then a pause. "I'm going downstairs to get some breakfast. I would suggest you do the same." Then a quiet click as Jade left the room.  
  
Nathaniel sighed, leaning his forehead against the glass of the doors. "I do choose my own path, Jade, but I choose it because I can do no other." The room was empty though, and there was no one to hear his confession—not that Jade would have anyway.  
  
It was not so long later that Silvara, Damien, Sarai, Jade, and Nathaniel were assembled outside of the Hall. It was still barely light out, merely a sliver making it's way over the horizon's edge. Jade and Nathaniel stood next to two saddled Kindred horses, both borrowed from the Hall. Neither was laden with saddlebags of any kind as both Mutare had vanished the goods they needed to travel with—including clothes, emergency supplies, maps, and provisions.  
  
Looking pale and nervous in the dawning light, Sarai stepped forward first. "Alex is going to kill me. You know that, right?" she said with a vague laugh, referring to Jade's 'brother'. The dark haired Black Widow Queen merely nodded. "I know, but you will all survive. I am not much use in this place of comfort and luxury." Nathaniel just stood silent and somber—unusual for him.  
  
Abruptly, Sarai flung herself at Jade. The latter caught her in her arms, pulling her into a quick, fierce hug, and gently stepping away, holding Sarai back by her shoulders. "Goodbye, Sarai. Take care of my brother and my niece whilst I'm gone."  
  
"Always," the Circuit leader replied, giving a small salute and stepping away. Next was Silvara who tenderly embraced Jade, whom she'd come to think of as one of her Sisters, in addition to Sarai. "Be safe, Jady. Use your head, not just your instinct." With that she stepped away, and went to hug Nathaniel goodbye, who was already receiving enthusiastic farewells from Sarai, whom he'd made promise to take care of his Circuit.  
  
"Well, Damien," Jade began, "I have not known you for very long, so I will leave you with these parting words: take care of Silvara, and tell your parents I thank them for their hospitality. It was a pleasure meeting you." She gave a polite cursory bow, and Damien smiled at her. "Alright. Thank you for the parting words. It was nice meeting you as well, Jade." He tossed his hair foppishly and grinned, and Silvara just shook her head, looking at him. Jade repeated the motion, and led her horse away with Nathaniel following.  
  
Going to the Altar, Sarai opened the Gate and let Nathaniel and Jade through. They were gone in the blink of an eye. There was no time for long goodbyes and heartbreaking tears. Merely a void where there once wasn't. In the end, Sarai and Silvara met gazes and merely shrugged. Both were skeptical on Jade's chosen mission, but neither had any doubts about the unmovable spirit of Jade's will.  
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter One

Hand of Destiny

Hand of Destiny

Chapter One

Fandom: Black Jewels Trilogy

Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst, Fantasy, Drama

Pairing: Damien/Silvara, Jade/Nathaniel, Sarai/Alex

Rating: M/R (Though it's T for now…)

Notes: Sorry it's taken me so long to update. For awhile I lost/forgot my login info. Plus, I just haven't felt up to working on this in awhile. Be patient with me still, because I'm working on a novel right now, so if updates are few and far between I hope you'll have the dedication to keep reading.

Jade did not consider herself a fickle witch, nor did she think she could be easily dissuaded from her goals. However, as she woke the next morning in a cheap Terreillean inn, she just might have given in to everyone's demands that she cease her silly task. Her body hurt so badly from travel and the ague that was devouring her inside and out, she could hardly get out of bed.

But she did, regardless of the pain, as she did every morning.

Jade was the kind of witch who would push herself to and beyond the breaking point over and over again, if only to prove that she could. Stubborn, some might call her. Pig-headed, even. Not very flattering words, but there they were, two irrefutable parts of Jade's personality.

Had Nathaniel been awake and sensed Jade's weakness, however, he may have pounced on it and convinced her to go back to Kaeleer, where their friends and family and lives waited for them. He was quite lost to sleep though, and barely stirred when Jade crept from her bed.

The black haired woman washed as best she could from the basin of cold water. It's true, she could have used a warming spell to bring it to a higher temperature, or sparked a tongue of witch-fire to heat it. All of these things Jade considered to be quite wasteful of precious energy. Besides, the cold water was a way to wake herself up and chase the weakness from her bones.

As she washed, she stared at a stranger's face in the tarnished mirror over the basin. Her cheekbones were high and prominent with a light natural blush to them. It was startling in contrast to her pale skin. Her nose was a razor sharp line down the middle of her face. The girl's lips were full and made to make males beg for just a taste, though the woman who owned them did not use them in such a manner. The most dominating feature on Jade's face though, according to the young woman's opinion, was her eyes. They were large and slightly slanted, colored a shade of green so unique it could only be called her namesake. The lashes were thick and numerous. Her eyebrows—finely shaped—arched high over those eyes, only adding to the majesty of them.

All in all, it was the face of a beautiful woman. Not a warrior, which is what Jade considered herself to be. Therefore she seemed to punish herself by denying her femininity, her one vanity being that of the long, black hair she kept pulled back in a braid that dangled down to her toned buttocks.

Those who knew Jade knew her history quite well. Her mother, the infamous Kiana Darkk, was a skilled assassin in Terreille before the Purge. She trained her daughter in the only lifestyle she knew, and it was a creed that Jade still followed today. Thus the warrior-woman forced herself to dress in breeches and a shirt, followed by sturdy boots, all black, of course, despite the fact that it pained her to do so.

With the same stalwart attitude, she went downstairs and exited the inn to use their outdoor property as a training ground. Jade went through her exercises with a devotion that most could not hope to attain, pushing the weakness away from her. Woman battled warrior, and the warrior won out.

But this warrior was also a witch, a Black Widow Queen, at that, who wore a Gray Jewel. She was one of the generation to which Blood power and ability was returning in full-force. And these were the things that drove her also.

Beyond and above that all, was the fact that she was Mutare. A race of shapechangers or some might call them lycanthropes. Those who had both human and animal forms. Once upon a time, the Mutare had been as common among the lands as…oh, let's say Chaillot. An island people, they were somewhat isolated, but still traded and associated with the other races. However, a powerful Mutare Queen, who was also a Black Widow, had seen in her tangled web the coming taint that would shadow the lands. Rather than let it devour her people, she sank the island and cast a spell that would erase the traces of the Mutare from the rest of the world.

However, not all of the Mutare decided to stay with the island while it sank. Some escaped, vowing to live a life among humans and Blood, walking a delicate balance. Most forswore their animal forms, understanding their Queen's need for secrecy, and went into hiding.

This was the reason that Jade rose that day as she did every other day, to greet the dawn with sweat and exertion. It was her goal, her duty to raise Mutare from the sea, though it would be an exhausting task (and she wasn't quite sure how to accomplish it yet) and restore it to its glory. In all honesty, there was one ulterior motive to all this, and it was to find the cure to the Mutare ailment….

The mysterious ailment had plagued certain Mutare all their lives. Usually it set in sometime around adulthood, though for some it worked faster than others. The way it worked was that it slowly sapped your strength and energy, including that of your psychic strength, until eventually the body couldn't meet the supply and demand anymore. When that happened, death occurred.

This was the ailment that Gabrielle, the Queen of the Dae al Mon suffered from. It was held in suspension now by a spell crafted by herself, Silvara, and Sarai. Eventually though, without the cure, the spell would fail and Gabrielle would die.

Eventually Jade would die. And while she didn't necessarily care whether she lived or died, she much preferred breathing to the agony she would suffer before death.

Therefore it was necessary to find the cure, which existed in the form of a flower that grew only on Mutare in its lush jungle. Following that train of thought, it was also necessary that the island be raised from the sea.

It was this way of thinking that drove Jade to complete her exercises, and to return up to their room, even though she was exhausted.

When she returned to the inn's room, Jade found Nathaniel still sleeping, his deep auburn hair a silken tangle, and one foot peeking out from the bedcovers. Though physically exhausted, the black haired woman still had the wherewithal to be amused by the sight. She smiled charmingly, though no one was awake to witness it.

Determined to be nice to her companion while they were on this journey, despite the fact that he disagreed with it strongly, Jade thought that she would wake him up gently. Carefully, she perched on the edge of the bed, unable to resist the animal urge to groom those she held in affection. Her fingers began untangling his hair with small tugs. And then she began to sing in their native tongue a song Nathaniel had once confided to her that his mother had sung when he'd been a babe.

The redheaded man woke slowly to the sound of a soft, silky voice singing his favorite song. It was a very pleasant way to wake, and he immediately purred low in his throat. It was then that he became aware of the fingers gently moving his hair. That was even better. Nathaniel rolled over slowly, seeking the body that went with those fingers, knowing that it was one of his favorite people.

Gradually, his face came in contact with her leg, and he rubbed back and forth. Had he been in his animal form, he would have been scent marking her…his scent on her, and her's on him. As he was merely a person now, the action was just taken as a sign of affection, and he heard a fond, low chuckle in response to it.

"Wake up, Nathaniel," Jade prodded softly, "It's time to greet the day."

"Hmm…" he agreed, unenthusiastically.

"You never were a morning person," Jade murmured to herself, still playing with Nathaniel's long auburn tresses. She waited a few more minutes, then gave a not-so-playful tug of his hair. "Come on, Nathaniel," she said sternly and in a voice he was all too familiar with, "We've got to move on. It's off to Nehna to find our kin. I'm hoping they'll have some clue as to how, exactly, the Queen sank the isle."

With that, she threw him off of her, and stood up. Jade began to efficiently gather the few items she'd unpacked. Nathaniel sat up in bed, pouting sleepily, and looking quite rumpled. It was a good look on him, Jade had to admit.

GET UP! she finally sent to him on a psychic thread. It shocked him enough to widen his chartreuse eyes with their thick, girlish lashes, and make him leap out of bed. He looked even better naked, the black haired woman thought to herself. Of course, these were all things that she would never act upon. Acknowledgement and attraction were very different from action. Nathaniel was her friend, and she would never deign to ruin that relationship with such complicated things like romance and relationships.

"Alright, I'm up!" the redheaded man cried, as he stood there in his birthday suit, looking charmingly cross with his companion. He started pulling on his clothes, muttering under his breath about insane witches and their penchant for mornings. It made Jade choke back laughter. Instead she said aloud, "We've got to move on to Nehna, Nathaniel…today. I have to get in contact with the Farsi, if they're even still there."

"I know," Nathaniel agreed in a much mellower tone of voice, "I just…hate mornings." That he ended on a whine, and Jade rolled her eyes in response. "Really, now, Nathaniel," she responded, her voice indicative of disappointment.

"Let's just do this," he said, his voice suddenly serious. Jade silently agreed wholeheartedly. Really, the whole task was something she just wanted done and over with. It was taxing as it was. To think she had weeks, possibly months, ahead of her of just information gathering. Jade preferred a more active approach to life than that. Still, she wasn't foolish enough to think that she could raise an island by herself without the proper knowledge and tools.

With Nathaniel dressed and ready, the pair paid their bill with the innkeeper, and took their horses on the Winds as far as they could. Nehna, however, was a small village and did not have it's own web landing. Therefore they had to drop from the winds in a town called Varnie and take the rest of the way on horseback.

In Nehna, they could not outright ask if the Farsi were still there. They had to meander the village and see if they could sense any flux in a person's aura. It was the only way for one Mutare to identify another—it was how she and Nathaniel had known each other for what they were upon first meeting.

The reason they sought the Farsi—a group of Mutare that traveled together—was the slim possibility that they may have some knowledge or lore that would give Jade a clue as to the spell the Queen had used to sink the isle.

Nathaniel caught the first sign of a fluctuation.

He elbowed Jade subtly, and she drew her horse to a stop. Who? she asked on a thread. The man by the well, Nathaniel responded without mental inflection. Jade nodded and hopped off her horse, leading its way to the well. "Excuse me," she said to the man. He looked up and recognized her as another Mutare immediately. Jade could tell by the widening of his eyes. She gave what she hoped was a friendly smile. Are you Farsi? she asked the man. He nodded almost imperceptibly. I need to speak with your leader…privately.

The man smiled then, and told her, "Follow me."

Without even learning the man's name, Jade and Nathaniel were led to a house that was in need of some repair. "What have we here?" asked a man white-washing the fence. Jade smiled and tried not to show her distrust of strangers.

Jade was not a creature of impulse, so when she said she intended to meet with Deacon of Nehna to gather information it did not come as a surprise to Nathaniel. He was well-known among what had become the secret society of those who had been (and still secretly were) Mutare. What did surprise him, however, was the male puttering about in his garden wearing one of those silly, floppy fishing hats.

He was obviously the famous Deacon, judging by the amount of power emanating from him, and Nathaniel's own predator rose to the surface, sensing a possible threat. However, he'd expected someone more…intimidating, apparently lethal. What he saw was a man in good shape easily past the prime of his life. And a landen, at that. He ordered his inner beast to be at rest. Surely Jade wouldn't….

Jade politely thanked the Mutare who'd guided them, then turned her back, facing Deacon. An obvious dismissal. The man went away obediently. Secretly, Nathaniel was pleased. One less thing to rouse the beast within, the predator that was as much a part of him as his Blood heritage. Then Deacon turned to face them, curiosity lighting up his wrinkled, sun-tanned face, and the cat reared its territorial head again. Jade smiled at Deacon pleasantly, and though Nathaniel knew it was forced, that didn't stop the male in him from getting jealous. At least it kept the great cat at bay.

"Hello, Deacon," Jade said in her lovely low speaking voice. "Hello…I don't believe I know your name," the man replied, holding a rake defensively. Subtly, Nathaniel shifted in front of Jade so he could shield her, should the man decide to attack. "Jade Darkk," she replied, still acting nonchalant, "May I have a word in private?" Deacon seemed to take their measure, then invited them inside.

The interior of the cottage was Spartan. It didn't surprise Nathaniel as he'd already assessed the man as a bachelor. Jade took it all in with dead eyes that gave away nothing. Instead she imperiously helped herself to a seat and waited for Deacon to seat himself across from her. Nathaniel remained standing, wary.

"So what is it I can do for you, Lady?" Deacon asked. "We need information about how Mutare was sunk," Jade stated bluntly. "All I know are the legends," the man replied, "Nothing more. But you might try Prince Jecken of Frond. He's more a scholar than I am." Jade let a sigh of exasperation escape, and it was telling to Nathaniel of how tired of this journey she was already. "I can, however, get you some new clothes from Lady Tempest in Jang. It's right on your way to Frond. Mutare leather, the finest in Terreille."

Mutare leather was rare and hard to get a hold of. Most people didn't even know it existed, outside of the Mutare themselves. The significance behind Mutare leather was that it was made from the hides of Mutare who'd died in animal form. Now, this may seem barbaric to some, to wear the hides of your ancestors, but among the Mutare it was considered a great privilege. For there was something practical about it also—Mutare leather changed with you when you changed, instead of shredding like ordinary clothes. Then when you changed back, you were still fully dressed. The only catch was that your clothing had to be made from the animal you changed into.

The fact that Deacon was offering such a connection implied that he knew something was going on. Either that, or he was trying to win Jade's favor. Or tricking them. All three were a possibility. Nathaniel tried to convince himself that he was being paranoid, but knew better than that. There was always the possibility that someone would try to screw you over. He gave a mental sigh. Jade's paranoia was starting to rub off on him, and he used to be such a trusting fellow—naïve, Jade used to say.

Jade nodded and told Deacon that a letter of introduction to Lady Tempest would suffice, and directions to her business in Jang. After a brief pause, Deacon nodded and went to write the letter. When he returned, he told the pair how to find Lady Tempest and Prince Jecken, then Jade and Nathaniel took their leave of Deacon's cottage.

It was back to Varnie to catch the Gray Wind to Jang.

Nathaniel sensed it was going to be a long day.

When they dropped from the Gray Wind in Jang, Jade took measure of the small town. It was bustling with activity, and people swarmed the streets. Market day. Shit, it was going to be hard to meet with Lady Tempest today. She said as much to Nathaniel on a distaff to spear thread, and the redhead nodded his agreement.

Jade took the lead then, following Deacon's instructions on how to find Lady Tempest's shop. It was a quaint building with violet shutters and trim. The shop was located on the first floor. The second floor was probably an apartment.

Slowly, she pulled open the door, jingling the bell hanging above it, and braced herself for anything. The first thing the Black Widow Queen heard was swearing in a feminine voice. It seemed Lady Tempest lived up to her namesake. She smiled at Nathaniel and sent the thought to him. He chortled with laughter.

As they walked in the door, they heard a disgruntled cry of, "I'll be there in a damn minute." Nathaniel shrugged at Jade a flopped down in a cushy armchair. Jade perched on the arm, wanting to seem as casual as Nathaniel was, and waited…and waited…and waited.

A full thirty minutes passed before the shop's owner emerged from a back room. "I'm sorry about the wait," she said in a rough voice, "I just had to finish a seam…then I got distracted and it turned into two. When I get sucked into my work, I tend to ignore all else." The woman was tall and thin, with wild red hair, and shrewd brown eyes that hid behind glasses. She took one look at them and knew they were Mutare. Her eyes widened and she said in her no nonsense tone of voice, "What can I do for you?"

Jade called in the letter and handed it to her, saying, "Deacon sent us." Lady Tempest snatched the letter, ripped it open with an elongated nail and read it quickly once, then again with a much slower pace. Then she crumpled the paper up and vanished it. "I'll dispose of it properly later."

"…So," Tempest began, "Deacon promised you Mutare leather, did he?" Jade quirked an eyebrow at Nathaniel, indicating she wasn't sure whether to answer or not. He took over the conversation. "He mentioned you might be able to do so, if you have the time, Lady."

"Time is a precious commodity, Prince, and Mutare leather is something that takes a lot of it. It'll cost you. Do you have enough coin?" Lady Tempest asked, her words as blunt as her voice. "Does it matter?" Nathaniel asked in response. The lady laughed, and told them, "Of course not. I'd still charge you the same."

Nathaniel grinned charmingly at her, and Jade could visibly see her take an instant liking to him. Not being as good with people as he was, she simply resigned herself to being the third party in this situation. "Well, let's get your measurements, then draw up some sketches." The young Queen couldn't help but give a small smile of thanks. The clothes would definitely come in handy. At least she wouldn't have to get naked every time she needed to change shape. Now to spell her Jeweled collar so that it would change with her also…

Two hours later, the designs were settled upon and half the price was paid. They were told to return in two weeks (two weeks?!) for their clothes. It would put them behind schedule, but in the end would be well worth it. And she would have two weeks to figure out how to spell that collar. Perhaps she'd write Jaenelle and ask for her advice…if Jade had trouble, that was.

Their third stop of the day was much more informative than the first. Prince Jecken let Jade have free reign over his library and his font of spoken lore. She spent the day picking his brain and his books, gathering information and taking notes. It went against her nature to do so, being a warrior at heart, not a scholar, but she plowed on nonetheless.

…Nathaniel took a nap.

TBC…


	3. Chapter Two

Hand of Destiny

Hand of Destiny

Chapter Two

Fandom: Black Jewels Trilogy

Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst, Fantasy, Drama

Pairing: Damien/Silvara, Jade/Nathaniel, Sarai/Alex

Rating: M/R (Though it's T for now…)

Notes: I can't believe I'm writing another chapter so soon either! Oh, and I just figured out that 's formatting deletes my asterisks that I use to separate scenes and for psychic threads, so I apologize if everything seems mushed together for you readers. Guess I'll have to try another symbol.

--/--

The first morning without Jade was a surreal experience for some people, at least those who'd known her well. Silvara woke in the morning next to Damien with his body half sprawled on top of her, unable to move. Her first thought was that she ought to be unable to breathe, his weight was so substantial. It was deceptive because he was so trim. Then again, he was tall, and tall people had a lot of bone mass to them…

Speaking of mass, there was a massive morning erection poking into her thigh. Silvara fought the urge to giggle like an inexperienced girl. Instead she decided that morning sex was on the menu. Definitely.

She decided to wake Damien up for it gently.

Her hands began to wander down the golden expanse of his back, stroking softly, caressing his skin. It was still a wonder to her that she was actually doing this…with Damien. It seemed years ago when she'd first developed this crush on him that nothing would ever come of it. Surely he had better prospects than a witch like herself. As a youth, Silvara hadn't had a high opinion of herself—she'd considered herself plain and unusual, not a traditional beauty at all.

Her hair was long and wavy, and an unusual silver color, as metallic as her namesake. Though she was Dea al Mon, and most of them were blonde, it seemed somewhere along the way one of her ancestors had mated with a Mutare. The silver hair was a recessive genetic trait from that, as were her indigo eyes, for neither of her parents, Gabrielle and Chaosti, had either.

Her eyes dominated her face, being large and slightly slanted, and her nose was considered cute and button-like. Her lips were full and her mouth just large enough to balance out her face. Pale skin like snow with a triangular face and a slight cleft to her chin completed the picture.

She was unique, not traditionally beautiful, and as such had had a complex about it. Until the Circuit, that is. The Circuit changed her in more ways than one. It allowed her to see many different sides to herself, and all the attention from the males they'd meet in other Circuits (or her own) or the towns they passed through eventually made her see herself differently.

The Circuit had also given her the unconditional acceptance she'd craved as a child and a youth, and growing up without her parents had taught her to fend for herself, and rely on others when needed. Sarai, their Circuit leader, had given her so much, had offered that chance to be on her own, and due to this Silvara ever felt indebted to her best friend.

But out of everyone at the Circuit, Jade had probably impacted Silvara the most. Made her stronger, emotionally and physically, had understood, had taught with infinite patience tempered with a well-hidden compassion…

As she touched Damien, all of these thoughts circled in Silvara's head, and left her dizzy with memories. Focus on the present, she told herself, ruminating does little to help. As her hands wandered to his derriere, Damien finally began to stir. He nuzzled her breast as he woke, murmuring something unintelligible. Finally, his golden eyes opened, and he smiled like a content little boy, a happy smile, a guileless smile.

"Good morning," he said in his incredibly luscious voice that he'd definitely gotten from his father. "Morning," Silvara murmured with a lusty smile, "Glad you're up." In more ways than one, she added on a psychic thread. Damien laughed low and husky, and his own lust showed in it.

"Me too," he said, "Now let's do something to make both more pleasant." Silvara let her laughter roll out of her as Damien rolled on top of her.

--/--

Much later the couple was dressed and in the dining hall. Damien's parents, Jaenelle and Daemon, were there, as were several other members of the former Dark Court, including Silvara's own parents. But those people were not what she focused on. Instead she found herself drawn to the young family down near the opposite end of the table.

Sarai with her short red hair and pretty blue eyes, and Alex with his dark hair and dark eyes, and their daughter, Keely, who was a mixture of both parents…

Silvara loved them like she loved no one else. They were her family too, in the same way that Gabrielle and Chaosti were. Perhaps more so, for they had shared so much of her life, more than Gabrielle and Chaosti had. Oh, they'd tried, but Gabrielle had been a stern parent, trying to teach her to be strong and implacable through example, and Chaosti had been very preoccupied to pay much attention to his young daughter. In the end, they'd driven her away from them and from the Dea al Mon. Sarai with her Circuit had been there to be the accepting, loving home she'd always craved.

As Silvara piled a plate high with food (to which Damien then added more, the prick), these thoughts swirled in her head. It seemed it was a day for ruminating. Then she headed wordlessly to sit with her friends and the girl that she'd adopted as a niece. Damien seemed torn for an instant whether to follow her or sit with his parents. In the end, his loyalty to his lover won out and he went to sit beside her.

"So," Silvara began as she plunked down next to Sarai, "What's on the menu for today?"

Sarai laughed and began reciting the contents of her plate, as though Silvara couldn't see for herself. "Well, I've got a bit of eggs, some bacon, a few pieces of toast…"

Silvara huffed at her and said, "That wasn't what I meant and you know it." The redheaded woman laughed again and responded with, "I know. Truthfully, I have a lot of Circuit business to attend to today. I have a meeting with the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, to see about renting some properties, since it looks like we'll be here for awhile. Plus I need a warehouse. We're going to throw a massive party. Mine and Nathaniel's Circuits, plus anyone who wants to join. We need major money. So that's my menu. What about yours?"

"Don't know," Silvara replied, shrugging her shoulders eloquently, "Honestly, I should get out there and exercise. Jade'll kick my ass if she finds out we're slacking." And just like that an awkward silence descended. Silvara watched as Sarai's eyes filled with tears, and was reminded that however long she'd known Jade, it was nothing in comparison to how long Jade and Sarai had been friends. "I miss her so much already," Sarai said, "Even though she lied about so much."

Alex, who was Jade's pseudo-brother, nodded his agreement, too choked up to speak. And then Keely piped in with a little, "When's Aunty Jade coming back?" Alex shushed his child and did not give her an answer, because no one knew what that answer was. Who knew if she'd even come back?

Sarai seemed to collect herself, and cleared her throat. "Let's go exercise," she decided as she packed away the rest of her food. Clasping one calloused hand around Silvara's wrist, she tugged the other witch up from her seat. "Come on, we need the workout." Silvara nodded her agreement, and the two of them left the room hand in hand.

Damien bit back a growl. Silvara hadn't even finished eating.

--/--

TBC…


End file.
